Page 27 of Rating the Book Boyfriend

Libby’s hands ball into fists. “You let me hear someone say that about him. I’ll break their nose.”

I resist the urge to put my arm around her and pull her into my side. She’s just so fucking sweet. “I’ve threatened a few people with that a time or two myself.”

We continue walking along the dock, and Libby says, “I really like Joe, and he’s such a gentleman. He kissed the back of my hand. Do you know how rarely that happens these days?”

We stop beside the third blue boat,The Dreamboat,and I say, “Liberty Hill, I’m pretty sure you’re the kind of woman who deserves to have her hand kissed every single day.”

As Darryl,The Dreamboat’s captain for the day, cruises through the open waters of the Gulf of Mexico, Libby sits beside me and begins pulling folders from her satchel. The sun has yet to make its daily appearance, but Libby’s movements are lit by a light on the side of the center console of the boat. Ace is up front, his paws on the bow as his ears blow back in the wind. The pooch is in his happy place.

“I thought we could go ahead and look over the paperwork so we can fish later,” Libby says.

“Sounds good to me. That’s, um, a lot of folders. I didn’t know I was that terrible.”

She laughs. “I’m sure you’re not. This is just my system. Ah, here’s the one.” Around twenty folders in a rainbow of colors rest on her thighs, but she opens a navy-blue one. “This one contains your paperwork to fill out.”

My eyes practically cross at all the boxes on the first page. The spreadsheet is titled “Book Boyfriend Ratings” and features a series of headings down the left side and numbers from one to ten across the top.

“Now, on the sheets behind this one, I have a detailed list of things every book boyfriend needs to know. Not every single one will be relevant to every couple, so don’t worry if it’s not something that pertains to you and Lucinda. You won’t be rated on those.”

“Um, okay.”

“You can read through those when you get home. Next time we meet, we can go over them in more detail, or you can text me if you have questions about any of them.”

“Sure,” I say, a little speechless at the thickness of the folder. My eyeballs hang on the last row of the spreadsheet. “Dirty talking?” I tap a finger on the words.

“Oh yes. Don’t let that one intimidate you. Dirty talk is a key component of being a book boyfriend, but I’m not going to make you say anything uncomfortable out loud to me. On page forty-two, there’s a form for you to fill out. Next time you and Lucinda are intimate, take note of the things you say. Then, when you have time, fill in the form with what you said and her responses to it.”

“I, uhhh, I think I’m good in that department.”What the fuck? Am I blushing?

She smiles indulgently. “I’m sure you’re excellent, but how can I rate you on it if you don’t fill out the form?”

“I… don’t know.”

“You don’t have to feel embarrassed with me, Riggs. You’ve read my books. I’m obviously a huge fan of dirty talking. And you don’t have to be ashamed of any kinks you enjoy. In fact, the kinkier, the better. I’m all in for whatever.”

She pats my knee, and if she moves her hand up a few inches, she will feel exactly what this conversation is doing to me. And why the nickname Rocket Romero wouldn’t have been off base at all.

She’s all in for whatever?Christ.I try to push away the carousel of thoughts that evokes. Long legs wrapped around my head. Blonde hair fisted in my hand. Slender hands cuffed to my bed. I can practically hear the headboard smashing into the wall inside my head.

To be honest, it’s been a while since I’ve heard that sound. Years, in fact. Lucinda is… I think the term we’re looking for here isvanilla.

“I’ll fill it out,” I croak. My throat is completely dry because all the liquid in my body has migrated south. Shifting a little, I cover the evidence with the folder, but Libby doesn’t seem to notice. In fact, she’s flipping through pages and tapping on various things I can no longer comprehend becauseshe’s fucking tapping on my dick!

After god knows how long, I’m aware that she’s stopped talking, and I worry that she asked me some question I didn’t hear. But her face is turned to the side, giving me a glimpse of a profile with high cheekbones and a pert nose.

“Wow,” she breathes, and I follow her gaze to the eastern horizon.Wow, indeed.

I motion to Darryl, and he cuts the exterior lights on the boat’s console, bathing us in darkness.

In the distance, the sky is melting upward, away from the water, a thin line of dark purple that fades oh so slowly as we watch in silence. The purple turns into blue, which morphs into a dusky pink, and then finally a soft yellow.

The sunrise over the Gulf is one of my favorite things in the world to watch, but my eyes seem to gravitate from that awe-inspiring sight to another that’s just as beautiful. Libby’s face is radiant, her lips slightly parted as if she wants to say something but is simply too overwhelmed.

She enjoys this as much as I do.

“I feel so small right now,” she finally says, her voice a mere whisper.

“No matter how many times I watch this, I always have the same thought.”

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